


Replacement

by Esmethewitch



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub, Dominant Rey, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Reading, My First Smut, One Shot, Power Imbalance, Smut, Sub Hux, Supreme Leader Rey, brief head on a pike, implied references to past abuse, probably unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmethewitch/pseuds/Esmethewitch
Summary: Sometime after The Last Jedi, Rey joins Kylo Ren, claiming she wants to learn from him. Then she kills him, and takes control of the First Order for herself. And of Hux. But she lets Hux think he's won at first.





	Replacement

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first smut I've ever written, so in my shame at losing my smut-writing virginity, I apologize to Mom, Dad, God, and my English professor. May they never find this. I think the two most difficult types of scenes for me to write are action and smut, so I'm trying to challenge myself with them. Constructive criticism is welcome.  
> CN: the "Mildly Dubious Consent" tag is due to the power dynamics between Hux and Rey, and the use of mind-reading and sex for manipulative purposes. Nobody gets hurt, but it's not healthy.

In hindsight, Hux should have stopped and reflected on the simplicity and ease of the transition. There should have been more of a challenge to his authority than there was. If he’d thought perhaps an hour more on that day, considered the implications of taking the long-desired bait dropped in front of him, he might have had the upper hand. In some alternate universe, he might not be stripped of his padded greatcoat, boots, regulation trousers, and little hat, suspended by powers beyond his knowledge or control. Above _her._ The Scavenger scum who dared to change the stormtrooper uniforms so they left off the helmet (admittedly, their accuracy with a blaster improved after that), who insisted that the remnants of the Resistance weren’t a threat anymore, that they should be ignored, the vermin.

She heard that. Her little hand connected with his cheek in a sharp crack, making redness bloom against his pale skin. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant.

“What am I, General?” she asked sweetly, giving him a gentle peck in the same spot to soothe the pain.

“Supreme Leader,” he gasped. She didn’t Force-Choke him. He doubted she ever would. Such an action would remind her too vividly of Ren, and turn Hux from a mostly friendly player in her game to a true adversary. On occasion, she rested her hand against his throat but exerted no pressure. She did that now, hand calloused from hours wielding a lightsaber lightly brushing against the delicate skin of his neck. Just to remind him of what she could do, if they both forgot their places. No, his gasp was not one of fear, but one of something equally humiliating. Arousal. At least here, in his quarters, there was no one who could see the General entirely at the mercy of the Last Jedi.

Or Sith, maybe. He was never entirely sure of where her allegiance in the Force lay. When she killed Ren, the man who was ostensibly her teacher (but he was always her second choice; Kylo had crushed the possibility of her seeking further training from Luke), she severed his head with her blue lightsaber and stuck it on a pike behind his throne. Next, all steely will and anger, she brought her humming blade down across the cylinder of his deactivated saber, pushing until she shattered the handle and kyber beyond repair.

“That’s for breaking mine last time,” she whispered. Then she vomited onto the waxed black floor and cried, curling into a tiny ball of jutting bones and despair at the steps of the throne. Hux approached. He watched her chest rise and fall, her hands curled around the hilt of her saber, knuckles white. The General turned on his heel and let her cry it out.

After all, he remembered a day when he’d eliminated someone who’d been hurting him for years. Someone who taught him many things but broke him in a million little ways, and shoved him roughly back together each time. He told himself then that his actions were for the best, were what he always wanted. That day wasn’t as good as he thought it would be. His younger self locked the office door, sat down at that big shiny desk of Arkanis oak, and sobbed like a baby. Afterwards, they’d stopped planetside and Phasma helped him haul the insult to proper office decor down the ramp and over the ground, dumping it unceremoniously on a patch of sand by an ocean. They doused it with motor oil and burned it, standing at attention until the rich glossy wood was no more than flakes of ash, seawater seeping into their boots on the tide. Rey needed time to do the same.

Hours later, he found her in his office after he returned from the bridge. She was perched on his desk, despite the presence of a chair for a guest.

“What do you want?” he’d asked, then flinched inwardly as he realized that was the tone he’d always used with Kylo.

“I want to know what we’re doing next,” she said. Her eyes were red from crying, face pallid from the aftershocks of murder and nausea. But her irises were her usual brown rather than yellow. Of course, the old tales of Jedi’s eyes changing color when they turned to Sith could have been untrue.  
She was beautiful in her vulnerability. Hux imagined giving her a drink of water, tucking her errant strands of hair back into her buns, kissing her soft lips, and then bunching up her tunic and pulling down her leggings. He would lick and suck her clit that had likely never known the touch of anything beyond Rey’s fumbling fingers, and take her right on that desk as she shook and begged for more.

“Whatever you want,” he said, shoving these thoughts down and trying in vain to replace them with disgusting things. “You killed the Supreme Leader, and his own ascent to the position set a precedent for this.” He sat down at his desk, which had a rather generous panel to hide the legs, thank all the dead gods of Arkanis. He told himself that this would never happen, be sensible. The Galaxy is full of loathsome things. Black socks matched with charcoal grey by mistake. Ginger cat hair stuck to his greatcoat and the lint roller gone missing. Misfiled documents. Filthy, gorgeous Rebel (they called themselves the Resistance these days, but it came to the same thing) scum who thought they could just waltz in and call the Galaxy theirs, doing no work to claim it. No, no, that image was having the opposite of its intended effect. He thought about the plasticky blue bantha-cheese rations at Academy, so horrible that if you rolled them into balls and dropped them on the table they’d bounce. And the soup they had on Taungsdays. A watery slurry of cabbage, always lukewarm...he felt the warmth and moisture of a circle of pre-cum spreading on his drawers. It was dangerous to think of sex with a Force-user nearby.

Rey smiled like a nexu who had just sighted prey and peeled off her tunic, unhooked her bra. She bent over and removed her boots, took off her leggings and panties. She sat back down on the desk, swiveling to face her General.

Hux gaped, face red as Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. “What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, he managed to hiss.

“Whatever I want,” she purred, and with a gentle hand at the nape of his neck she guided his head between her legs.

He went slowly and made her beg for it, drawing back as her whimpers increased in volume and pitch. He savored her; the tang of salt and sweat, the delicate nub under the tip of his tongue obeying him.

“What do you want?” This time, he was confident rather than resigned.  
“Oh, please! Nnnnngggghh…” One of her flailing arms dislodged a glass paperweight, knocking it to the floor. It shattered.

He smiled. One paperweight was nothing compared to the destruction wrought by Ren’s tantrums. Finally, he had the most powerful Force-user in the Galaxy right where he wanted her. Squirming around underneath him atop his desk, at the mercy of his fingers and tongue. Her hair was drenched in sweat and her eyes were clenched shut as she gulped for air. Again, perhaps he should not have let himself go so completely with someone who could read minds. He thought the edge of her orgasm might drown out his emotions and plans. It certainly seemed that in the moment, nothing existed for her except pleasure. The pleasure he gave her. "Use your words," he admonished.  
  
“I want you to put two of your fingers in me and fuck me with your hand. I want you to pinch my clit and rub it, then lick me until I come. Please!”

So he did, and she arched her back and screamed as he held her hips firmly in place, pressed against his desk. She shuddered as she came down, and he kissed her tears away. This very well might have been the first time for her, he reflected. When she seemed capable of understanding spoken words again, he made his next blunder. His dick throbbed too much for him to think straight. Maybe it wasn’t really a blunder. From a pure analysis of power dynamics it was, but from the point of view of his heart (no, really it was his cock), it was one of the best decisions he ever made.

“You’ve taken your pleasure,” he said. “What do I gain from it?”

Rey beamed, as bright and merciless as the sun of Jakku. “I should punish you for insinuating anything less than desire to serve your Supreme Leader unconditionally,” she said, giddy with the power of her new title and the newly-discovered weapon of her body. “But since you were so good for me, I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“What about birth control?” Hux asked. Though far be it from him to turn down a gift from the Galaxy, he did not want any bastards of his own.

“I’m taking pills for that.”

“You really are? You aren’t just saying it to make me feel better?”

Rey rolled off the desk, quick as a cat, and picked up her bunched clothes, pulling them back on.

“Oh. I’m almost certain I have a couple of barriers somewhere…” he trailed off.

“I’m really taking it,” she told him as she laced up her boots.

He sputtered. “Then why don’t you…”

“You doubted me.”

She marched out of his office, leaving Hux erect and miserable. He finished himself off into a fistful of tissues. It seemed that Rey could be just as cruel as Ren, though her methods were much less orthodox.

Two cycles later, when she sat alone on that uncomfortable chair she vowed to destroy with her lightsaber and replace with something better, he apologized.

The new Supreme Leader smiled. “Kneel,” she commanded. He did.

So it began.


End file.
